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The beginning of April was Qing Ming Jie (or, Tomb-sweeping Festival), a big national holiday for honouring your ancestors or, as we prefer to think of it, an excuse for some days off. Nicole and I used said days off to visit Wuyuan county, said to be home to some of China's most beautiful countryside, with our friends Mark and Sam, who are also English teachers in Jiujiang. For simplicity's sake, we organised the trip through a local travel agency: 570Y for two days tour around the area, meals, accommodation and entrance into different scenic spots included. I'd say the price was fair enough, although the places of interest we visited weren't all ones I'd have chosen myself - for example, I'd probably have skipped the tour of a cotton products salesroom that was enforced on us on the first afternoon. The second thing that put a bit of a dampener on our Wuyuan outing was the horrible stomach bug that both Nicole and Mark had for the duration of the trip, which rendered them both sick and miserable for the best part of the two days. In all honesty, it was a liiiittle bit of a let-down: not as pretty as we were promised, and not as much fun as we'd hoped, although, for me at least, it was nice to visit villages rather than a city for once.
We met our tour-guide and the rest of our tour group at the train station, piled onto the bus and waited in the car-park for about half an hour before setting off. Then we set off and spent about two hours waiting in traffic before we managed to put any distance at all between us and Jiujiang. Highlights of the journey to Wuyuan were limited, but we did get a long, mist-laden look at Poyang Lake (one of the world's largest freshwater lakes. It's like the size of Wales or something*) as we drove past/over it, and towards the end of the journey you could catch glimpses of graves amid the fields, decked out with paper flowers for Qing Ming Jie.
Our first destination was Mandarin Duck Lake (Yayuang Hu), memorable for its distinct lack of Mandarin ducks. I counted two. They were penned into a small pond in the wooded area we walked through, presumably to stop them following the example of every other Mandarin duck in the vicinity and leaving. There were plenty of boring normal ducks, but these too had been fenced in to prevent any escapes - not that we'd have cared, as I don't think any of us came to China for the sake of the same ducks you can see by any river anywhere in England. Luckily, the tour company had decided to amp up the thrill-factor after this, by taking us to... a cotton products salesroom. I wish I was joking, I really do. But no, we really did have to sit in tiny bamboo chairs and watch a bored Chinese guy demonstrate the miraculous cleaning powers of various cloths and tea-towels for 45 minutes. (The saddest thing is that this is actually the second time I've witnessed the same demonstration; I've seen people giving it on trains before.) He also took the time to demonstrate the great elasticity of the underwear his company sells, and the many different ways their hideous fluffy snood/scarf can be worn, including as an attractive, if furry, tube dress. Judging by the laughter of the two middle-aged women behind me, watching this poor guy stride about in a neon pink, make-shift mini-dress was the highlight of their year so far, but I don't think even that can justify the amount of crap they, and everyone else on the bus, bought after the demonstration. I hope the salesman got a commission on the scarves, because I looked around the bus as we drove on to our next destination and almost every woman on board had bought themselves one.
The highlight of the day, particularly welcome after the farce of the cotton products place, was Little Likeng. This was a picturesque old village built tight on the sides of the river, the two sides pinned together with wonky wooden bridges, all mildewed white walls and curving grey slate rooves. Unfortunately, the whole village was hopelessly clogged with tourists, jostling down the narrow streets and blocking each other's artistic shots of 'ancient China', but the crush did peter out the further you walked from the main street. We stayed in Little Likeng until dusk fell, just strolling around exploring (exploring people's gardens and allotments, really, but it sounds better if I just say 'exploring' and leave it at that), and then it was back onto the bus to drive to Jiangwan. Jiangwan was a big disappointment, because it seemed as though it might have been a really pretty, interesting place to visit... if it hadn't been so dark that our tour-guide had to show us around by the light of a tiny pocket torch. A bit of a waste of time really, so we didn't stay long.
After Jiangwan, we had dinner with the rest of our group in a nearby city and headed to the hotel for bed. I was absolutely horrified to learn we'd be woken at 5.30am the next day, which was exactly as painful as I'd expected. After a less-gross-than-usual traditional Chinese breakfast (rice porridge, mmm), we were driven off to a mountainous, forest-y area to see some waterfalls. Or, according to everyone else on our and every other tour, to take a bajillion posing photographs of ourselves and our friends in front of various natural landmarks. I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but the Chinese are the worst posers I've ever encountered, ever, and they have absolutely no shame about it either. Within 10 minutes of our arrival, the whole river was full of every variety of Chinese poser: young girls splashing flirtatiously, elderly tourists staring stony-faced, women gazing mournfully and meaningfully into the distance, kids waving peace signs... and variations on all the above. The walking route laid out along the river would have taken no time at all, but nobody but us even pretended to be interested in it; they were only there for the photo opportunities.
The last place we visited in Wuyuan was Qinghua, famous for its 800-year-old Rainbow Bridge. I can't see where the "rainbow" name comes from myself, and I highly doubt it is actually 800 years old (more likely it's a 20 year old bridge in the same place as one was 800 years ago) but since when have silly things like that ever troubled the Chinese tourism industry. Qinghua was actually my favourite place after Little Likeng. We didn't spend much time in the village itself, but the views from the bridge were great, and across the river you could follow several beaten footpaths through the fields and up to a reclusive little temple. ("Unique Hui temple" - the signposts. "It's exactly like the ones on Huangshan" - Nicole) We were too early in the year to see the sea of yellow rape flowers which is the iconic in Wuyuan, but we could the flowers budding, and an impressive stretch of prettily messy terraced fields. There were also two old women sat opposite the bridge amidst a heap of flowers, threading the huge Lana-del-Rey style flower wreaths we'd seen all the other tourists wearing.
We made two stops in different places in Jingdezhen on our way back to Jiujiang, but neither were particularly special and I figure if I was bored visiting them, you'd probably be bored reading about them. So! that's all for now.
Ella xxx
*There is a small chance I completely made this up, but Poyang Lake is big
- comments
Jo Your words are worth a thousand pictures, Ella. Sounds like this one is more enjoyable for your readers than it was for you. Hoping the next trip is much more interesting, just not too much so! XX Mum
Dad Well, maybe I'm not so unhappy about not making that particular trip. Any birds? I thought that lake, being so big, was some kind of waterfowl mecca. Pleased to hear that the Chinese are consistent in being such awful poseurs and so excited by running water - they were just the same at Lu Shan. If they were British they'd just eat sandwiches and chuck orange peel around. Great read.